


BRB--Summoned by Management

by Amedia



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amedia/pseuds/Amedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil vanishes the morning after a fight with Carlos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BRB--Summoned by Management

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime after First Date and sometime before Yellow Helicopters.

_It's all right. You're hearing voices, but that's normal. You're tuned in to Night Vale Community Radio._

LULU: Hi, Carlos! Hey, pretty flowers. 

CARLOS: Hi, um . . . Intern Lulu, right? You think Cecil will like them?

LULU: Oh, he'll love them. The miniature replica bloodstone is a great touch. Um . . . that _is_ a replica, right?

CARLOS: As far as I know. It was the florist's idea.

LULU: Where's Cecil? The morning show starts in five minutes.

CARLOS: I don't know. I just got here. Um . . . look, he left this note on the desk. It says "BRB."

LULU: Oh hey, there's something on the other side. [sound of crackling paper] Nooooooo!

CARLOS: What does it say?

LULU: Read it for yourself--I'm outta here! 

[sound of running footsteps rapidly fading into the distance]

CARLOS: "Summoned to station management." That can't be good. 

[sound of pacing footsteps]

[ringing sound] 

CARLOS (mumbling): Where's that coming from? There's no phone on the desk . . . or in the room . . . huh. The headphones are lit up. The phone must be wired into them. Yeah, okay, they've got a built-in microphone. Which button answers the phone? 

[clicking sound, followed by a squeal of feedback] 

CARLOS: Not that one.

[clicking sound, followed by silence] 

CARLOS: Hello?

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: There's no radio show! 

CARLOS: Um, who is this?

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: This is Old Woman Josie and I want my radio show!

CARLOS: I'm sorry, Miss Josie, but Cecil's not here.

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: You have a voice, don't you? 

CARLOS: I'm not--

OLD WOMAN JOSIE (interrupting): And you can read, can't you?

CARLOS: Well, I suppose--

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: Then pick up whatever's on the desk and start reading it out loud! It's not rocket science, you know!

CARLOS: Rocket science I could fake. I did some work in grad school--

OLD WOMAN JOSIE (interrupting): This is Carlos, isn't it?

CARLOS: Yes, ma'am.

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: You should keep better track of your Cecil, young man.

CARLOS: I'm sorry, Miss Josie. It's all my fault. 

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: What do you mean?

CARLOS: We had a huge fight last night. He was mad because I didn't take station management seriously enough. I mean, I know what it's like to be afraid of your boss, but he was talking as if they were some sort of hideous inhuman monsters. I said they sounded like my dissertation committee and he said that my irreverence was verging on blasphemy and I said . . . well, it doesn't matter now. They've summoned him. If he survives, he's never going to speak to me again!

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: If he _doesn't_ survive, no one in this town will ever speak to you again! [sigh] In the meantime, the least you can do is stay on the air. There should be some announcements on the desk. Maybe some disks you can play. 

CARLOS: Yes, ma'am.

[click, followed by dial tone] 

CARLOS: How do I . . .? [click; dial tone stops] Okay, um, good morning, Night Vale, this is Carlos, sitting in for Cecil. Let's start off with a pre-recorded public service announcement!

PRERECORDED CECIL: (sonorously) Recycling. We all know how important it is to keep the earth green and tidy for the coming apocalypse. The City Council has asked me to remind all of you, dear listeners, of the penalties for failing to recycle common items used in your daily life and household rituals. Off-duty agents from a vague, slightly menacing, and precariously underfunded government agency will be earning extra cash on the side by going through your trash, looking for objects that should have been recycled. A schedule of offenses and punishments has been posted at the community center. You should all memorize it. All of you. Now. (brightly) This has been a public service announcement from the Night Vale City Council.

CARLOS: (with forced cheerfulness) This is Carlos again. For those of you who just tuned in, Cecil isn't here right now, but I'm expecting him back any minute . . . (forlornly) I hope. 

[loud zapping sound] 

CARLOS: Oh my God!

[silence] 

[ringing sound] 

CARLOS: Yes?

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: This is Old Woman Josie again. Young man, you can't just say "Oh my God" and leave your listeners hanging! What made you say that? What do you see? You have to tell us!

CARLOS: Miss Josie, there was a flash in the middle of the air, over in the corner, and then . . . some sort of . . . _portal_ briefly opened, and Cecil fell through it onto the floor, as if someone had dumped him here from another dimension. I'm over here now. Next to him. Trying to see . . . if he's okay . . . 

OLD WOMAN JOSIE: That's better. Don't break down, Carlos. Just keep talking. Night Vale wants to hear this. Night Vale _needs_ to hear this. Tell us about Cecil. 

[click]

CARLOS (making an effort to stay calm): Uh, well, listeners, Cecil's unconscious. He fell from mid-air down to the floor, but I don't think that knocked him out; I think he was like that when he first appeared. Probably a good thing if you're going to take a fall like that. He's lying on one side in a heap . . . He's breathing. I can feel his chest going up and down, and his heartbeat is strong. I don't see any obvious injuries--wait a minute. His breathing seems labored.

[sharp intake of breath] 

CARLOS: I rolled him onto his back and, oh, his face! He has a welt across one cheek . . . a red mark shaped like a tentacle. I think it's actually a burn. There's another burn mark just above it, on his scalp; I can see it through his hair. Oh, Cecil! Is this because of me? (under his breath) Get control of yourself, Carlos. (aloud) There are scorch marks on his vest, too. I'm unbuttoning it . . . and the shirt underneath. No. Oh, no . . . No wonder it's hard for him to breathe. Listeners . . . there's bruising all the way around Cecil's ribcage, as if he's been attacked by a boa constrictor. I'd be surprised if he didn't have cracked ribs. 

CECIL (faintly): Carlos?

CARLOS: Cecil! I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Oh, and we're on the air.

CECIL (with tenuous but eerie cheerfulness): Excellent! Then I can . . . tell our listeners myself . . . the good news.

CARLOS: Good news? Have you seen yourself lately? Station management must have been furious.

CECIL: Furious? They were . . . delighted! [gasp of pain] Give me a hand . . . will you?

CARLOS: Of course. 

CECIL (in a stronger voice): Oh, that's better. . . Definitely easier . . . sitting up. [contented sigh] Did anyone ever tell you . . . you have the perfect shoulder to lean on?

CARLOS: No one ever told me I had a perfect _anything_ until you came along. Cecil, I'm so sorry.

CECIL: Don't be! Things couldn't possibly have turned out better.

CARLOS: But, but . . . what do you mean?

CECIL (with some effort): Listeners, I had the rare privilege of an audience with station management this morning. They saw me without an appointment and without even the customary lizard sacrifice! They were very pleased when I told them I had guessed their plan, and it turned out that I was right. My Carlos doesn't even know it, but they were using him to test me. 

CARLOS: Wait, what? How?

CECIL: When it came right down to it they needed to know whether I would defend them with sufficient vigor against the perspective of a reasonably skeptical and perfectly blameless outsider. And apparently I _did_!

CARLOS: Then why do you look like death warmed over?

CECIL (chuckling): Well, you know, station management . . . they can get a little over-enthusiastic. They didn't say any of this in so many words, mind you, seeing as how they don't actually _speak_ , but I was able to gather that I exceeded their expectations. So they gave me a hug, a pat on the cheek, a tap on the head . . . and here I am.

CARLOS: And here you are. I was afraid I'd never see you again. Or that you wouldn't want to see me.

CECIL: Silly Carlos.

CARLOS: I brought you flowers.

CECIL: Awww . . . that's so sweet. The dead aspidistra is a brilliant touch.

CARLOS: There's a miniature bloodstone replica, too.

CECIL: That's not a replica. 

CARLOS: Oh.

CECIL: It's perfect. Thank you, Carlos.

CARLOS: My pleasure, Cecil.


End file.
